K & Tammy at Knott's Berry Farm, 1983
The summer before sophomore year in high school, my parents took my best friend Tammy and me to LA, and we went to Knott's Berry Farm. Yep, there were rides and fried chicken and cute boys and photobooths... but there was also a new wavey dance club called Cloud 9 and I was completely dazzled.
Looking back it was so cheesy -- they played songs like "Burning Down The House" by Talking Heads and "One Step Beyond" by Madness and showed the videos on the wall, while all the kids and goofy tourists danced below the screen. I'd never been to a dance club before -- just school dances in our commons, where they played a lot of slow songs and couples would put their hands in their back pockets and sway along to the music, while my friends and I sat in chairs and scoffed at the corniness. This, though, seemed like the real thing, and I was thrilled.
It was definitely one of the "yesss!" moments of my life. All the stuff I was into, that I longed for, was right there! Up until then, the only exposure to any sort of that subculture (as mainstream as it was) was in tiny doses -- no one was really like that at my school (except for a few upperclassmen, of whom I was intimidated), and snippets in magazines or on TV and my ears glued to the radio for that certain sound. It was out there, for sure, but considering I was 14 and had a curfew and protective parents, I was doing the best I could with all of those, like, totally annoying Things In My Way.
But what charmed and dazzled me that night were all the mod kids hanging around. I don't think I'd ever actually seen a real live mod in person before (oh, I cringe to write that sentence), but fell in love with the boys in parkas (in 90 degree weather) and girls with neckties and bobbed hair dos. My own hair, which I had modeled on the GoGos record album cover a few months before, now seemed passe. They had the utter aloofness down; the way they danced was so controlled and looked so artful. They were just so COOL. They made everyone else -- the goofy tourists, the typical tanned California boys and girls, even the funky new wavers with whom I'd been so enamored for the past two years -- seem... tacky.
I remember the car ride back to the hotel, sitting in the backseat, quietly reveling in what I saw. I knew that I could never wholly subscribe to it, even back then, but that's the night my whole love affair with the whole mod thing started. I grew out my hair and bought "Beat Surrender" by The Jam with my allowance at Sun Valley Mall. I had English Beat and Madness pins, never really separating the whole mod ska thing. I scribbled mod band names all over my Pee Chee folders. I thrift shopped for olive green and black clothes. But I never quite mastered the whole thing, because I was never as cool and aloof and artful as the kids from my initial impression, and, I admit, I still loved the Go-Go's and all that other stuff.
But that night, as embarrassing as it is to admit it now, had a huge impact on my life.
K & Tammy at Knott's Berry Farm, 1983
The summer before sophomore year in high school, my parents took my best friend Tammy and me to LA, and we went to Knott's Berry Farm. Yep, there were rides and fried chicken and cute boys and photobooths... but there was also a new wavey dance club called Cloud 9 and I was completely dazzled.
Looking back it was so cheesy -- they played songs like "Burning Down The House" by Talking Heads and "One Step Beyond" by Madness and showed the videos on the wall, while all the kids and goofy tourists danced below the screen. I'd never been to a dance club before -- just school dances in our commons, where they played a lot of slow songs and couples would put their hands in their back pockets and sway along to the music, while my friends and I sat in chairs and scoffed at the corniness. This, though, seemed like the real thing, and I was thrilled.
It was definitely one of the "yesss!" moments of my life. All the stuff I was into, that I longed for, was right there! Up until then, the only exposure to any sort of that subculture (as mainstream as it was) was in tiny doses -- no one was really like that at my school (except for a few upperclassmen, of whom I was intimidated), and snippets in magazines or on TV and my ears glued to the radio for that certain sound. It was out there, for sure, but considering I was 14 and had a curfew and protective parents, I was doing the best I could with all of those, like, totally annoying Things In My Way.
But what charmed and dazzled me that night were all the mod kids hanging around. I don't think I'd ever actually seen a real live mod in person before (oh, I cringe to write that sentence), but fell in love with the boys in parkas (in 90 degree weather) and girls with neckties and bobbed hair dos. My own hair, which I had modeled on the GoGos record album cover a few months before, now seemed passe. They had the utter aloofness down; the way they danced was so controlled and looked so artful. They were just so COOL. They made everyone else -- the goofy tourists, the typical tanned California boys and girls, even the funky new wavers with whom I'd been so enamored for the past two years -- seem... tacky.
I remember the car ride back to the hotel, sitting in the backseat, quietly reveling in what I saw. I knew that I could never wholly subscribe to it, even back then, but that's the night my whole love affair with the whole mod thing started. I grew out my hair and bought "Beat Surrender" by The Jam with my allowance at Sun Valley Mall. I had English Beat and Madness pins, never really separating the whole mod ska thing. I scribbled mod band names all over my Pee Chee folders. I thrift shopped for olive green and black clothes. But I never quite mastered the whole thing, because I was never as cool and aloof and artful as the kids from my initial impression, and, I admit, I still loved the Go-Go's and all that other stuff.
But that night, as embarrassing as it is to admit it now, had a huge impact on my life.